


Prodigy

by aban_ataashi



Category: Tyranny (Video Game)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, slightly dysfunctional and technically evil found family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aban_ataashi/pseuds/aban_ataashi
Summary: Sometimes, a family is three deadly Archons who care about each other a little more than they'd ever be able to admit.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

Bleden Mark was an archon of immense power and skill, and he resented being assigned to babysitting duty.

Tunon didn’t call it that, of course. He referred to it as ‘evaluating the potential of promising trainees in order to select those who would best serve the glory of Kyros’. He’d always been fond of stating things in the most dramatic fashion possible.

Whatever the wording of the task was, it required Bleden Mark to spend his time- which, he reminded Tunon, was incredibly valuable- watching over the children that Tunon called 'soldiers' as they stumbled through their training. In the end, he would decide which ones would be advanced to higher positions upon the completion of said training and which would serve as cannon fodder. If he was lucky, he might even unearth a few traitors in the ranks; that would at least be good for a little entertainment.

Unfortunately, the newest batch of candidates was devastatingly boring. Even Tunon’s newest favorite, a pet mage whom the Adjudicator had singled out as showing high potential, was a disappointment. Perhaps Mark shouldn’t have expected much to begin with. After all, Tunon had always favored obedience over creativity, and this young lackey certainly fit that mold.

Oh, the new star pupil was talented enough. Powerful, even. She’d make a perfect little war mage, and she’d serve the armies of Kyros well.

But she was predictable. That much was obvious from the beginning, when Bleden Mark watched her sparring sessions with the other mages from his shadows. Her fellow students always seemed reluctant to be paired with her; she must have seemed intimidating to them, with her perpetual frown and furrowed eyebrows. The strictly tight braid she kept her hair in and the fact the she was at least a few inches taller than any other student only furthered the effect of her serious expression. But being the toughest kid in a crowd of teenagers still didn't mean much. Her actual battle style was, in a word, boring. The girl threw arcs of crackling lightning at her opponents with a flawless, textbook technique that allowed Mark to mentally calculate her every move and stance ten seconds before it happened. In fact, he was able to pinpoint the exact moment she left herself open to attack- and so was her opponent, who took advantage of the opportunity to release a wall of flames in her direction.

The opponent was no exemplary mage either, and the girl recovered- although not without a few burns and a singed robe. But even as she narrowly snatched up her victory, Bleden Mark couldn’t muster up any genuine admiration. He could certainly see why Tunon liked this girl, but it took more than flashy magic and raw force to impress him; he was searching for _cunning,_ and it didn’t appear that this girl had much of that to offer.

Or at least, that’s what he thought until he caught her in the act of stealing scrolls from the restricted section of the mages' library.

Lilith did not _steal._ She intended merely to borrow.

And what was the difference, so long as Tunon never knew? This section of the library was so rarely used, anyway. At least someone would be getting some good out of it for once.

“Whatcha got there, kid?”

Lilith whipped around, fingers still locked tight around the scroll in her hands. Numerous excuses sprang to mind- she'd prepared many, on the off chance that one of her teachers did in fact happen upon her in the library tonight. But when she was who it was that was standing before her, those excuses died in her throat.

The first thing that struck her about the man in front of her was the crimson red of his face paint, the only flash of color standing out from his otherwise dark figure. It drew her attention immediately, and it her took her a few seconds more to realize just how difficult it was to notice anything else. The man didn’t quite seem to be all there; shadows clung eagerly to his silhouette and caused him to flicker in and out of clarity, and the more she tried to focus on his image the more his features grew fuzzy and dim.

That was when she realized who was standing before her: the Archon of Shadows.

Bleden Mark raised an eyebrow, and when Lilith didn’t immediately answer- it was strange, she usually had no shortage of retorts, but at this moment her voice seemed to have disappeared completely- he grabbed the scroll from her hands. The movement was so quick that Lilith barely had time to realize what had happened before he was once again on the other side of the room, studying the scroll’s contents.

“A spell like this is a bit above your station, isn’t it?” he mused, and Lilith’s hands tightened into fists at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms. _Above her station?_ Above the station of the other trainee mages, perhaps. But everyone know she was far better than any of _them._

The barb did, at least, finally help Lilith locate her voice. Lifting her chin high, she replied, “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The Archon studied her for a moment, then snorted dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you can, kid. And I’m sure your teachers would agree and are completely aware of your intent to learn it.”

Panic shot through Lilith’s veins at that comment, but she did her best to keep her voice steady. “They are.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid.” The Archon’s teasing smile vanished. “Especially not when you’ve been caught in the middle of the night with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“I-” Lilith started to protest, but faltered. He was right about one thing; she had been caught. There was no use denying her intentions now. “I was going to put it back.”

The Archon tilted his head, remaining silent for a moment. At last, he said, “Of all potential thieves, Tunon’s favorite little mage wouldn’t have been my first guess. Aren’t you afraid of invoking the Adjudicator’s wrath?”

“He won’t be angry if he doesn’t find out.”

The Archon’s answering laugh was so loud that Lilith jumped, but he didn’t seem worried about being overheard. “That’s a bit more to the letter of the law than the spirit, don’t you think?”

“I…” Lilith faltered, unsure of how to respond. Were this Tunon, it would be easy- just sing the praises of the law and nod along with every compliment paid to Kyros. But Bleden Mark was hardly anything like Tunon.

“Just tell me this, kid,” the Archon continued. “Why risk it for this spell?”

“It’s not about that specific spell,” Lilith said. She chewed her lip nervously and looked down with a sigh. “Not really. I need to be stronger. The instructors won’t teach me more, so I’m going to learn on my own.”

And that was the truth. She’d always been leagues ahead of the other mages. _Always._ Always smarter, more powerful, a natural at arcane warfare. And rightly so; it was her entire life, and had been for as long as she could remember. That life had taught her one very important thing- a person survived by being the _best._ By learning everything they could and performing it to _perfection._

But lately it just didn't feel like enough. She'd reached the extents of what her superiors were willing to allow, and now she was just waiting, stifled and stagnant, for the others to catch up to her. And they would. Given enough time, they could threaten the favor she'd fought hard to gain from Tunon. She needed to keep her advantage, and mastery of the paltry magic her instructors taught her was not enough. Storm spells like the one held in that scroll were perfect- not the classroom variants, but real wartime spells, the kind that could cause explosions on the battlefield. That was the kind of real power Lilith needed.

She didn’t have the words to express any of these thoughts out loud, but as Bleden Mark held her under his scrutiny she wondered if he just _knew._ At last, he said, “This won’t make you stronger.” The certainty in his voice stung, but Lilith tried not to show it as he held the scroll out in front of her. “But if you want it so badly, come and take it.”

It was a trap. It was obviously a trap. But dammit, Lilith _needed_ that scroll.

Before she could think about it too long, Lilith summoned a spark of lightning in her hands- even the Archon of Shadows could be paralyzed, couldn’t he?- but before she could test that theory he was gone. Lilith’s sparks crackled uselessly into thin air, and then he was behind her, delivering a kick to her knees that sent her sprawling across the floor.

“Is that the best you got, kid? Flashy lights and a temper that makes you stupid?” He shook his head. “That’s not gonna win you anything.”

He leaned down, holding out a hand as if to help Lilith up, but she’d had enough of his tricks. With a huff she pushed away and hauled herself to her feet, ignoring the aching in her knees and the massive blow to her pride. “If you're so wise, then tell me what _will_ win me something.”

He chuckled, dark eyes glinting cruelly from behind the red paint. “I'll let you in on a little secret. I don’t have to be strong when I know where my opponents are weak. Think on that, kid. But do it later. For now, you run along before your teachers come investigate what’s making so much ruckus.”

Rage boiled inside Lilith’s chest, and she could feel the static crackling along her skin, begging for another release, but she forced the storm to remain inside. He was right; she had to be gone from here before anyone found her. “Are you…are you going to tell Tunon?”

Mark tilted his head, letting a taunting grin spread across his face. “You know, I haven’t decided yet. I like to keep my options open. Let’s see how well you take my advice.” And then he was gone, as if he were never there to begin with, and Lilith was left with nothing to do but return to the mage barracks.

The next three days were spent swinging between fear that Tunon would call her to the Court for punishment and the strange, nagging desire to know just what the Archon had meant by his ‘advice’. Lilith ran over the encounter in her head, remembering his words. _I don’t have to be strong when I know where my opponents are weak._

On the third night, she returned to the library to pull a different spell from the records, and this time no shadows came to stop her.

The little mage didn’t seem to know when to give up.

Bleden Mark watched her next sparring match with no small amount of amusement. He was almost impressed by how swiftly she’d adapted to her new strategy. _Almost-_ she still threw her lightning around with more reckless abandon than was necessary, but the youngsters always loved their dramatics. Mark could put that aside and admit that her new trick of weaving shades of atrophy through the air alongside her electric bursts was something that warranted a small bit of approval.

By the time her opponent realized what she’d been doing, it was too late. His energy had been sapped away, and he could barely maintain a standing position, let alone an offensive one. He moved to put one last surge of effort into an attack, but before he could form the spell the girl’s staff whistled through the air, connecting with his knees with a loud crack.

Mark waited until the arena had cleared before surfacing from his shadows and materializing at her side. “You’re a fast learner.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, then tried to cover her surprise by crossing her arms and raising her chin defensively. “I know,” she retorted in a tone of forced arrogance.

 _Young and stupid,_ Mark thought. From the perspective of an Archon who’d been around for centuries, that statement was true of just about everyone. Still, it fit this girl more than most- barely fifteen, but proud and brazen and utterly convinced of her own talent. And, unfortunately, not entirely wrong on that last point.

“Interested in learning more?” Mark asked. It wasn’t often that he took on new students; it was even less often that those students made it through the training. Tunon wouldn’t be fond of Mark snatching his favorite pupil away, but as the girl had pointed out already, the Adjudicator didn’t need to know _everything._

The girl studied him warily, taking her time to respond even though they both know what her answer would be. “I'm interested," she said plainly, "but I still don’t trust you."

Mark chuckled. “Good. There might be some brains in that head after all.”

The next time Bleden Mark met with Tunon, he concurred with the decision to promote the War Mage Lilith to Fatebinder. Tunon was pleased. He saw only the girl’s skill and willingness to serve. He didn’t see the ambition that would either get her killed or, one day in the far future, make her a very real threat. Mark didn’t feel the need to enlighten him.

Either way, it would be interesting to watch what happened.


	2. Chapter 2

“Still playing with stolen scrolls?”

Lilith couldn’t help jolting slightly as Bleden Mark’s voice cut through the silence of her empty study. Nearly two decades of dealing with him, and she still hadn’t managed to figure out just how he snuck through the shadows like that. And he knew it- his voice was smug as he continued. “Thought you would’ve outgrown that by now.”

Regaining herself, Lilith stopped trying to locate him. That would be impossible, unless he wished it. Instead, she focused again on the papers in front of her, and without looking up replied, “These scrolls were rightfully won from the Sages by the Scarlet Chorus, and it is my duty to review their suitability for distribution.”

“You and your technicalities. Some things just never change,” Mark drawled. Footsteps echoed across the room- footsteps that Mark would only allow to be heard if he wanted his presence acknowledged. It was only then that Lilith looked up from her desk.

Bleden Mark stood across from her, his face obscured as usual in shadows that flickered and danced with the light of nearby candles. He gave Lilith his customary sly grin in greeting, then looked down at the papers on her desk. He reached out to pluck one up, but Lilith quickly snatched it away.

“You’re one to talk,” she retorted. Dropping her voice into an imitation of Mark’s deep whisper, she said, “Still sneaking around in the shadows? Some things just never change.”

She never would have gotten away with mocking any other Archon. Graven Ashe and the Voices of Nerat were both prone to flying into rages when their pride was threatened, and Tunon would expel- and possibly execute- any Fatebinder who showed him such disrespect. But Lilith had long ago learned that Bleden Mark was odd, even for an Archon. And indeed, he only chuckled at the comment.

“Why are you here?” Lilith continued in her normal tone. “Shouldn’t you be off assassinating some rebel leaders?”

“Had to come by and see your handiwork, didn’t I?” He crossed his arms and gave Lilith an appraising look. “Your first Edict is a big occasion.”

Ah, yes. Lilith’s first Edict- the burning of the Vellum Citadel. Even now, Lilith sat a little straighter as the mention of it brought on a surge of pride. Before, she’d been merely a Fatebinder; now she was a Fatebinder with an Edict to her name, someone who had acted as a conduit for Kyros’s power.

It was a strange magic she’d tapped into when she spoke the Edict, nothing like the sparks that danced naturally at her fingers, or even the cloying atrophy she’d become so familiar with. The Edict was more than that- searing and scorching and painful, and more than anything, _powerful._ Lilith could still taste the ash in her mouth.

And now, people were finally beginning to take her seriously.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” she said, smoothing back a long lock of her dark red hair. “An entire battle decided with one word.”

“Not the most subtle of words.”

“We can’t all do our work in the shadows, old man. Sometimes proper intimidation needs to be a little more visible. The rebels will remember this moment.”

“How very bloodthirsty of you. Tunon will be proud.” Those words very nearly caused Lilith to flinch, but she maintained control of herself, meeting Mark’s gaze steadily. His eyes narrowed the slightest amount, although his voice was still light as he continued to speak. “He does wonder, however, why you warned the Sages beforehand.”

Lilith had been expecting that question. “The Sages are no threat at this point. It would be senseless to throw away all their knowledge without sufficient reason.” She did not mention the fact that most of said knowledge was, by Kyros’s law, forbidden. She did not mention the hollow feeling that had formed in her chest as she watched the place of learning burn, or the pity she felt as the Sages watched all they worked for go up in flames. “I carried out the mission with minimal loss of potential resources. It seemed the wisest course of action.”

“Pragmatic as always,” Mark said. His tone was carefully neutral, uncolored by approval or judgment. “And always ready with a smart answer. You really have been learning.”

It was a compliment- technically- but it still made Lilith frown, and she was suddenly quite eager to change the topic of their conversation. “And since I’ve answered your question, how about you answer mine? Why are you really here?”

“Are you saying I can’t check up on my favorite student?”

“You never have before.”

“I’ve never needed to.” Mark grinned. “But I’ll admit it, I’m not only paying a visit to you. I’m running a little surveillance on the other Archons. Checking to see if they’re all playing nice.”

Lilith let out a harsh laugh. “I’ll make it easy for you. They’re not.” She didn’t bother to hide the sour notes in her tone. The constant squabbling between the Archons of Secrets and of War just made her job that much harder.

Mark shrugged. “They’re not supposed to, really. A little healthy competition keeps things efficient. But there’s still a limit to what we can allow.” He tilted his head and studied Lilith for a moment, evaluating something, although she could not guess as to what. “You think you know so much- what would you recommend doing to keep their spats at an allowable level?”

Lilith raised an eyebrow. Mark was asking her opinion on something? That was…unprecedented. She considered the question for a long moment, remembering the most recent arguments between the Disfavored and the Scarlet Chorus, and finally said, “Send Sirin away.”

Mark actually looked a little surprised at that. “And what’s the problem with Nerat’s songbird?”

“Half of the disputes I have to settle are between her and the Disfavored soldiers. They want to keep to themselves and claim their own prisoners, and she wants to bend every rule she comes across so that she can add people to her little cult of followers. You send her somewhere else, the arguments stop. And maybe the next time she gets sent out to the front lines of a war, she won’t be-” Lilith paused, reconsidering her next words. It would hardly do to call an Archon a _spoiled brat,_ no matter how apt the description. “Maybe she’ll have matured enough to handle it better.”

The worst part of dealing with Sirin was that it was hard to blame the girl herself. She was barely _fourteen,_ for crying out loud. She had no place on the frontlines of the Conquest, and Lilith was tired of dealing with the repercussions of that fact. Lilith would never voice those thoughts, of course- they came far too close to being a criticism of Kyros.

Despite her restraint, Mark still snorted at her words. “Careful, kid. One might think you were getting emotional over this.”

“It has nothing to do with emotions,” Lilith snapped. “But the last thing I need is an inexperienced little girl getting underfoot in this war every time she wants a shiny new toy.”

Whatever Mark thought of that answer, his expression remained unreadable. “Not a bad point. I’ll consider it.”

Lilith knew she would get nothing more out of him, so she simply nodded. “If that’s all you wanted, may I return to my reading now?”

“Oh, I would never dream of disturbing your foray into forbidden knowledge,” Mark answered with a chuckle, ignoring Lilith’s answering glare.

Before he turned to leave, however, his face grew serious. “And as far as the Edict goes, just know that for better or worse, you’ve gotten yourself noticed. Keep your guard up, kid.”

He disappeared then, leaving only empty air behind, but Lilith was certain he could still hear her answer. “I always do.”

Sirin crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of the window, watching as the flames danced in the distance. Even from this distance, the crackling of burning wood sang out like a devouring symphony. The library was burning, and that meant their job here was about as done as it could get.

Nerat had been hissing sullen complaints about this all day. They didn’t like resorting to Fatebinders. Their Edicts may be the words of Kyros, but it was Tunon who organized and controlled them. In Nerat’s opinion, this turn of events meant that after the Scarlet Chorus had borne the majority of work and sacrifice in this mission, it would be Tunon and his pets who claimed all the glory. Sirin didn’t give two figs about the Archons or their politics and power plays, but anything that made Nerat angry was just fine by her. She was happy to let that horrid creature squabble with the Fatebinder, and every bit of their frustration only added to her bitter satisfaction.

Truthfully, Sirin didn’t even like Fatebinder Lilith; the woman had no real power of her own. She was just another groveling servant of Tunon’s. And yet she always turned her nose up at everyone else, dismissing Sirin completely and discarding perfectly good prisoners that would have been better off as her servants. It was practically treason.

But those annoyances were outweighed by the sincere joy Sirin gained from any inconvenience that befell her commander. Nerat may have been able to bind Sirin to their service, but nothing could ever make her like it.

An amused smirk slowly crept across Sirin’s face as she watched the library continue to burn. No, making people think they liked things they didn’t was The Songbird’s specialty, and hers alone.

The bittersweet humor didn't last long. Sirin should have been happy right now. Nerat was upset and this horrible boring war was almost over. She was sick to death of arguing armies and rebels and snobby Fatebinders, and once she was done dealing with all of it Sirin could…

And there came the problem, the one concern that kept humming through the back of her mind, no matter how she tried to silence its whispers. Sirin had no idea what she was going to do once all of this was over. Although one would never know it from the way the others treated her, Sirin was an Archon. She _should_ be able to do whatever she wanted, go wherever she pleased. But she was dangerous, dangerous enough that she was shackled and watched over and chained to that awful Nerat. She’d spent just over two years in their service now, and it was more than enough for Sirin to know that she didn’t want to stay around a second longer than necessary.

If only she could get the headdress off. They’d all be sorry then. _All of them._ Graven Ashe with his derisive insults, Tunon and his pets with their cold superiority _,_ Nerat with his control and his experiments and horrible mess of whispers that passed for a mind.

Even Kyros.

Her thoughts were traitorous. It didn’t matter- for now, anyway. Kyros knew she thought them, and the fact that Sirin was still alive meant she was still considered useful. The minute that changed…

A crash resounded in the distance as one of the roofs of the smoldering library collapsed in on itself. Sirin watched a moment longer, her gaze lingering on the glow of destruction, before she sighed and turned away from the window. She would have loved to watch the bonfire all through the night, but she needed some time to think without distractions.

It did occur to her that she could simply… go. Not now, of course. There was no hope of respite during the Conquest; her talents were far too valued to risk losing at this point. But the Conquest was almost over, and the wreckage of the precious library was just another nail in the coffin.

Afterwards, once the Archons had retreated to their own corners and there were not so many eyes on her- could she leave? Could it be that simple? The more she considered it, the more it seemed possible. The conquered Tiers would have plenty of suitable places to hide out for a short time, and taking care of herself wouldn’t be a problem. Sirin’s powers were hindered, but it would take only a simple melody to convince her devotees to bring her whatever she needed.

And the devotees would come. Archons could resist her, especially with her voice diluted by the headdress, but the simple-minded common folk loved her. More than that, they _adored_ her, _worshiped_ her. Always.

The more Sirin thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. This could work. Not forever, but whatever came after would be worth it for some time away from Tunon’s tantrums and endless orders. She would carve out her own small kingdom, where it was her word, and not Kyros’s, that was law.

The treacherous thoughts sent a thrill up Sirin’s spine, and she wore a giddy smile on her face as she slipped down the hallway to prepare.

Sometimes, things just worked out so neatly. It was rare, but Bleden Mark was not one to question the rare bit of fortune fate deigned to throw his way.

Lilith was not entirely wrong in her analysis of Sirin’s place in the power balance of the Archons. Mark wasn’t sure of the Fatebinder’s true motives, but her conclusion was nonetheless correct- the Songbird was a source of conflict.

Nerat was furious when she disappeared- more out of offense at being disobeyed than any true desire to keep her around. The Archon of Secrets would have ferreted out her location quickly, no doubt, if not for the Oathbreakers that suddenly demanded the Chorus’s full attention.

The Oathbreaker problem required the Chorus and the Disfavored to work together once more, and Mark decided that perhaps Lilith was not wrong about needing to keep Sirin out of the equation. So when Tunon asked after the girl’s whereabouts- he never did understand subtlety, only orders - Mark had no answer to give him. And he certainly had no news about a lone traveler who, under cover of the darkness that Mark knew so well, had fled to Lethian’s Crossing.

Sirin’s disobedience would eventually be punished. Tunon and Nerat would see to that. But that was an issue to be settled in the future. For now there was little to but wait, and see what came of Lilith’s ideas.


	3. Chapter 3

Lilith cursed under her breath as she ruined yet another piece of parchment. With a heavy sigh, she fished another page from her pack and began the letter again.

_Archon Tunon,_

_Allow me to express my deep appreciation for this opportunity…_

She got further this time, almost to the end. The words stung her pride as she wrote them, and her grip on the quill left tremors in the handwriting. But the letter was readable and suitably respectful and she got all the way to the words _your faithful servant_ before her temper flared and electricity slipped from her fingertips in an angry spark, leaving the letter torched just where her signature should go.

Lilith bit her lip to keep from cursing loud enough to wake the whole camp. That was the sixth paper she’d ruined trying to respond to Archon Tunon. It had been getting harder lately to play her part with him; she was ready for more than the role of an obedient Fatebinder who jumped at his call. Now that he had sent her to Vendrien’s Well with an Edict, fully expecting her to di in the process, it was almost impossible.

Almost. She could still do it, just a little while longer. She could pretend this mission was an honor and recite the lines that kept her on his good side. Because whatever Tunon thought, Lilith had no intentions of dying here. And when she returned to Court, she would need to make sure that Tunon had no reason to distrust her any more than he already did.

So Lilith steadied herself, picked up the quill, and started once again.

Of course, all of her hard work could be for nothing. The mere fact that she had been sent on this mission could mean that Tunon was looking for proper ways to get rid of her. In a way, it was a compliment; it meant he took her seriously. And she would show him that he was correct in doing so. She would sort out this mess between the Disfavored and the Chorus, she would reclaim these lands for Kyros, and she would return to Court with a new success to her name. Tunon would appear pleased, even if he secretly hoped for her failure, Kyros would know the victory was because of her, and Bleden Mark might even show his face for some sarcastic approval.

Lilith wondered if Mark had known about the Edict. If he had chosen not to tell her anything. She had to admit, it wouldn’t surprise her if he had. That was his way, the way of all the Archons. Secrets and manipulations. She knew the game and could play it well enough, hence the fawning letter to Tunon that she _finally_ managed to finish with burning to a crisp.

Still, it was a disappointing thought; and even more disappointing was the idea that she might have thought, even subconsciously, that she could depend on him. Work with him? Certainly. But trust him?

 _That_ was a mistake Lilith was far too smart to make.

Bleden Mark didn’t disagree with the logic behind the Edict. Between the oathbreakers and the arguing Archons, the Tiers could use a good reminder of their overlord’s power. And it was always fun to watch the chaos that followed in the wake of an Edict’s destruction.

Hy just wished Tunon has chosen a different Fatebinder to make the proclamation.

It wasn’t that he felt sentimentality towards Lilith in particular; at least, no more than he did his favorite dagger. He just didn’t want all those years of work to be wasted by her getting killed off so soon.

But Tunon has made his decision, and to be fair, it wasn’t completely unfounded. Lilith had experience dealing with both armies involved in this mess, and with the people of the Tiers. She had proven capable with every other task she had been given. And while the tension in the land was unmistakably brewing, it hadn’t come to a boil just yet. Now wasn’t the time to bite back against this particular Archon’s hand.

So Mark held his tongue and watched, as he always did. Lilith was young and ambitious, but she was no fool; if there was a winning strategy to be found in the Tiers, she would find it. Or she would fail and prove that she had never learned anything from Mark after all. Either way, there was nothing to do but wait.

Tunon expected her to never return. Mark knew that much. Mark also knew the Archon of Justice was underestimating his Fatebinder.

And sure enough, the day finally came when the land shook with the realization of a resolved Edict, and it was not long after that when Lilith strode into Tunon’s Court, haughty as ever and very much alive.

Tunon had many questions, of course, and she answered each with a steady confidence while the other members of the Court looked on with curiosity. Before, Lilith had been relatively well-known and respected for her part in the Conquest; now, she was truly an object of interest. And not only her, but also the odd entourage that had followed her to Court: a woman wearing the colors of the Scarlet Chorus who stared daggers at the people around her, a Sage who managed to avoid eye contact completely by keeping his nose buried in a scroll, and a strange figure encased completely in rusted steel.

Bleden Mark sized them all up from the shadows, grinning to himself as his interest built. _What have you been up to, kid?_

Tunon’s interrogation wouldn’t get to the truth of that; Lilith knew how the Court worked too well to truly speak her mind. Mark would need to ask her himself.

He waited until she had finished the rest of her business, keeping an eye from dark corners as she made her rounds of the Court. Only when she approached the exit did he pull away from the dim grayness and step into the open air.

“Welcome back, kid.”

She managed not to startle at his sudden appearance- she’d been getting better at that lately- and simply raised an eyebrow in his direction. “If it isn’t the Archon of the Elderly. I was wondering when you would show up.”

Her voice was hard as stone, and after a first cursory glance in his direction she looked stubbornly away. Mark should have expected her first day back would not be an easy one; not with the way the Court had thrown her to the sharks. Instead of acknowledging her tone, he only snorted at her comment. “Is that supposed to wound me? If so, you’ll need to try harder than that. You’re still not half as impressive as you think you are.”

“And yet still twice as impressive as most of Tunon’s other lackeys,” she answered with a shrug.

“Always with a smart answer,” Mark said, shaking his head as he grinned. “But I guess you’re not entirely wrong. Especially after that little trick you pulled with the Spire.”

Lilith lifted her chin, and despite her air of lofty indifference, a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. Whether or not she was angry with Mark, she always did appreciate acknowledgement of her abilities.

“Of course,” Mark continued, “You also cause more of a ruckus than any other lackey.”

The smile disappeared. “Enough of a ruckus to make your list of problems?”

“What else did you expect after putting yourself on the map like that?” Mark grinned sharply even as Lilith’s expression darkened. “Oh, don’t look so _somber._ I thought you would be flattered that Tunon thinks you’re important enough to be a problem.”

“It’s not that,” she said shortly. “It’s just that it can be difficult to get stuff done when he’s keeping watch on me.”

Mark considered that for a moment, and then- quickly, before he could question his own judgement- slipped the bracer off his arm and tossed it to Lilith. “This might help with that.”

She caught it on instinct, blinking down at it in surprise. Even if she weren’t a student of the arcane, it would have been hard for her to miss that essence of shadows imbued in the bracer. For a moment her eyes flickered between him and the gift, intrigued but cautious. “You’re not usually known for your generosity. What’s the catch?”

“No catch- not this time, at least.” She still didn’t look very convinced, and Mark couldn’t help but grin at her suspicion. _That’s my girl._

“I like you, kid,” he said, offering her another sharp grin. “And as amusing as it would have been to watch that Edict drop, I guess I’m glad you’re alive.”

A storm cloud passed over Lilith’s face. “That’s why you let Tunon try to sacrifice me to the Edict.”

Mark paused at that. It wasn’t as if there was anything he could say to comfort Lilith. Comfort was a rare thing in a place like this. And she was right; he’d let Tunon make this gamble, because stopping him would put Mark in a dangerous position that he wasn’t yet ready to be in.

So he simply shrugged and said, “I do what I can, kid. Just like you. But none of us can do everything.”

Lilith glared at him a little longer, and for a moment Mark thought she would hurl the bracer back at him. But after a long moment she let out a deep breath and slipped the bracer on her arm. “Yeah. We do what we can.”

Lethian’s Crossing was safe. That was why Sirin had chosen it as her place to settle for the last few years. It was safe, familiar, out of the way, filled with people of weak wills to make sure she was well cared for.

It was also utterly boring.

Sirin hadn’t minded at first. In fact, it had been a nice change of pace after the Conquest. No demands from the Court, no battlefields, no Nerat to control her. For a while, it was bliss. She’d set herself up in one of the nicer homes of the settlement and quickly gathered herself a flock of people to see to her needs.

But as the months passed, the novelty began to wear off. Sirin had all that she wanted- a devoted following and a place away from the other Archons. But she was still left feeling restless.

It was, she decided, the headdress. That cursed headdress still leashed her, and no matter how far from Nerat she got she would never be truly free until it was gone. But she’d already tried every trick she knew of to release her, and none of it had ever worked.

And then, out of the blue, who should walk into her little home but the Fatebinder Lilith. Sirin had heard all the rumors about the Fatebinder and the Spires; as inconvenient as this visit was, she couldn’t help but be _curious._

“To what do I owe this incredible _honor,_ Fatebinder?” Sirin asked imperiously as Lilith approached her stage, flanked by a strange combination of companions. Sirin allowed her own crowd to arrange themselves around her, close enough to remind the other woman that she wasn’t defenseless here. “Is Tunon throwing another one of his tantrums trying to find me?”

“Tunon doesn’t care about you,” Lilith answered shortly. She looked around the crows with a bored disapproval, as if this whole arrangement were beneath her. “Not enough to send anyone looking, anyway. But seeing as I may have need of these town’s resources in the future, and you currently have them all tied up in waiting on you hand and foot, I thought I’d see if you and I could reach an agreement.”

Sirin laughed, letting the melodic sound echo around the room. Her admirers edged slightly closer, although Lilith remained unimpressed. She’d always been resistant to Sirin’s charms…but then again, Sirin had never put forth all her effort into trying to bend the Fatebinder’s will. She tilted her head, feeling the strange, balanced weight of the headdress as studied Lilith. The Fatebinder was known for her prowess with magic, and now she had awoken something within the Spires. Perhaps…

“Actually…” Sirin said, letting her powers seep through the melody of her voice. “There _is_ something you can help me with.”

She took a step closer to Lilith. The companions behind her tensed, but Sirin ignored them; Lilith was clearly the leader here, which mean they weren’t important and therefore beneath Sirin’s notice. Instead, she directed all of her magic towards the Fatebinder, pushing as hard as she could against the iron grip of her headdress.

“ _Remove. My. Helmet.”_

Lilith’s eyes closed- but only for a moment. They snapped open seconds later, icy and yet somewhat amused. “That’s enough, Sirin.”

Sirin let out a deep breath, partly in disappointment, and partly in exhaustion as she eased back on her straining powers. “Really? Nothing at all?”

Lilith laughed- a short, mocking sound. “I’ve been dealing with magic longer than you’ve alive. Don’t be so surprised I’m able to resist your little songs.”

“What can I say?” Sirin asked. “I’m the Songbird. That’s what I do.” She sighed, letting her gaze shift to the controlled townspeople. Even after stretching herself so thing in her attempt against Lilith, they still looked at her with devotion. She’d trained them well, after all.

Lilith looked around, her expression still unreadable, and added, “Even if it worked, I couldn’t have helped. That helmet is beyond my current means.”

Sirin huffed. “If you say so- although I shouldn’t have expected more. If _I_ haven’t figured out a way to remove it, I doubt _you_ could.” She paused, and flashed Lilith an innocent smile. “Unless the rumors are true, and that Spire changed you somehow?”

Something flashed in Lilith’s eyes- whether temper or suspicion, Sirin couldn’t quite tell. But it was gone in an instant, and Lilith replied, “The Spires can’t help you, and whatever power they gave me is none of your concern.”

“Then why are you here?” Sirin demanded. “You can’t help me, I can’t help you. I’ve been doing just fine taking care of myself here, so leave me alone and run back to the Archon. You won’t bother me, and I won’t bother you.”

Sirin expected Lilith to jump at that deal; she’d always been happy to avoid her before. But her words were met with silence, and from Lilith’s furrowed brow Sirin could tell the Fatebinder was thinking on _something._ Probably how she could get the best deal selling out Sirin’s location to Tunon or Nerat.

But Sirin wouldn’t go down that easily, she _wouldn’t,_ she would turn the townspeople and all of Lilith’s people against her, she would burn this town to the ground before she went back to the Scarlet Chorus-

“Come with me,” Lilith said, and it took a moment for the words to sink in.

“What?”

“Come with me,” Lilith said again. “Use your powers for something worthwhile. Or stay here and be a petulant little kid playing with your toys. I don’t care.” She paused. “But I think _you_ care. And I think you know that you have more potential than _this.”_

Sirin almost refused on instinct. But…she didn’t know how much longer she could away with this. And the Fatebinder was a wealth of knowledge on arcana. She said the Spires couldn’t help, but maybe she just hadn’t figured them out yet. Maybe- just _maybe-_ she could help Sirin’s predicament, if Sirin got on her good side.

She wasn’t really sure Lilith had a good side. She was likely just another person looking to exploit Sirin’s gift. Everyone wanted to exploit her gift; that was a lesson Sirin had learned all too well. But at least Lilith wasn’t Tunon or Nerat.

“Very well,” Sirin said loftily, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I will allow you the glorious gift of my presence. It’s better than dying of boredom in this backwater hole.”

Lilith watched Sirin out of the corner of her eye as the left Lethian’s Crossing. The young Archon actually seemed excited as they left the town behind. She barely seemed to notice the wary glances from Landry and Verse, or that her ridiculous flowing skirt were already collecting dirt and dust from the worn path.

She would need better attire for the road. And she would need an excuse for Tunon as to why she was with Lilith when he inevitably found out.

Lilith didn’t know why she was going through all this trouble. The girl was the same brat as ever, arrogant and shallow and childish…

But powerful, there was no denying that. Unleashed, she’d be even more powerful than the Archons. Lilith remembered her own power, that racing, electrifying connection with the Spires. She didn’t understand it yet, but she was going to leave no stone unturned until she did. And there was a not-insubstantial possibility that Sirin’s abilities could help her do that. After all, controlling minds was never a useless ability.

And at the end of the day, if Sirin was childish, it was because she was still a child, just barely sixteen. What Sirin needed was someone better than Tunon or Nerat to teach her a few things. And if nobody else was going to try and keep her out of trouble, Lilith may as well try her hand at it.

It was a stupid thing to care about. Yet as the thought crossed Lilith’s mind, she found her fingers tracing over the silver bracer at her wrist. Between her newfound connection with the Spires, the machinations of Bleden Mark, and this new hassle of looking after a willful and unpredictable young Archon, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was making the wisest decisions.

But she’d made her decisions to work with Bleden Mark and Sirin alike, and it was too late to turn back now.


End file.
